Paths Crossed
by Kerr Avonsen
Summary: An encounter in the Sixties changes some paths. Refers to "A Modern Prometheus" and "Spare Parts". Written in 2000.


**Paths Crossed**

by Kathryn Andersen

HL Lyric Wheel:The Crossover Wheel (Highlander/Sentinel) Rating:PG-13 Character warning:this story only contains minor characters. Disclaimer:(son of Datclaimer) Ahem. They don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a really brief time, okay?

Thanks to the folks on FFSupport for your input, even if it was mostly "don't change anything!" (smile)

* * *

His hair was brown and curly. His suit was exquisitely cut, molded to his form. The limousine was long and black. The champagne was cold.

"A toast," he said, "to the sixties. The decade I was born for."

They clinked their glasses and sipped.

Her hair was red, and straight, and long. It drifted unbound over her shoulders and down her back. Her skirt and blouse were Indian cotton, done up with ties. The anklet around her foot chimed when she moved. Her face was elfin-beautiful, her eyes bright.

"For peace and freedom?"

"For love," he said, put down his drink and kissed her passionately. She kissed him back.

He quoted, stroking her hair,

"Such was Zuleika, such around her shone  
The nameless charms unmarked by her alone --  
The light of love, the purity of grace,  
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,  
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,  
And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!"

Her face lighted with a smile. Then she teased, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"You might inspire me to something new," he replied. "She is a ring of fire," he said, "guarding a fountain of hope."

His next words were smothered by her kisses.

"Gordon," she breathed, nibbling his ear. "Give it up. Come and join me. Join the protest."

He sighed, and pushed her away. "It's just a war. Men die in wars. It's been happening forever, it will happen again. What's to protest about?"

"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"

He smiled a boyish, teasing smile. "I've been too busy with your other charms."

"This war is wrong! Can't you see that?"

"Perhaps I should change the verse," he frowned. "'She was a harpy screaming over a field of corpses.' Enough of this," he said, "you bore me."

"Just as you were bored by Celia, Anna, Nadia, Elizabeth and Jenny?"

"No, you have managed to bore me in a completely different way," he said dryly. "All they needed were a few diamond necklaces to shut them up. You price appears to be higher. You want my whole fortune."

She stared at him, momentarily speechless. "You... pig!" she exclaimed. "How dare you accuse me of - is everything in terms of money for you? Who do you think you are? When we were making love, were the dollar signs turning over in your head?"

"I didn't hear your protests about the champagne and caviar at the time."

"If you begrudge it so much, have it back," she said, throwing her glass of champagne in his face. She smiled, sacharrine-sweet. "I'm sorry I can't return the caviar, but it's in the sewer, where it belongs."

"You --" he began, not bothering to wipe at the champagne on his face.

She interrupted him. "You want to know why I hooked up with you? It wasn't because of your riches, it was in spite of them. It was because I felt sorry for you. I could feel it in your aura, the hunger. I thought I could show you what love meant. I thought I could show you what really mattered. But I was wrong. You don't know what love is. You never will. You are nothing but a hunger which devours. Your money isn't enough. Nothing is enough to fill that void. Anyone would be a fool to love you."

The limousine stopped at a light. Before he could do anything, she wrenched open the door, hopped out, and slammed it closed. She walked away without looking back.

He felt the champagne congealing, wet and sticky on his face and clothes. He gestured to the chauffer to carry on driving.

He would prove her wrong. He would make them love him. He would make everyone love him. He would be a shining star. His fame would rise again. They would scream his name louder than the Beatles. Or his name wasn't George Gordon Noel Byron.

Then maybe his hollow emptiness would be filled.

###

Naomi Sandburg's eyes were clear as she walked proudly down the road. He needed to learn a lesson, he did. She smiled, and started singing aloud, oblivious to the stares of the people passing by.

"I don't care too much for money,  
'cause money can't buy me love  
Can't buy me love,  
Everybody tells me so  
Can't buy me love,  
No, no, no, no!"

The next man she made love to had brown curly hair. It was just a coincidence. The next one was just a coincidence too. And so was the next one. Truly.

Many years later, when her son Blair asked her who his father was, she merely told him that there was a list of candidates.

* * *

This probably wasn't quite what Mongoose had in mind, but once Naomi butted in, she wouldn't go away. No, she isn't the _calm_ peace-loving Naomi we met in the series, but I figured she was more hot-headed when she was younger. Still as much a free spirit, though.

Thanks to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations for the quote from "The Bride of Abydos" by Lord Byron.

Here are the actual lyrics upon which this story is based. Sent by Mongoose.

**Mr. Big Stuff**

Jean Knight

(Oh yeah, ooh) Mr. Big Stuff Who do you think you are Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna get my love Now because you wear all those fancy clothes (oh yeah) And have a big fine car, oh yes you do now Do you think I can afford to give you my love (oh yeah) You think you're higher than every star above Mr. Big Stuff Who do you think you are Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna get my love Now I know all the girls I've seen you with I know you broke their hearts one after another now, bit by bit You made 'em cry, many poor girls cry When they try to keep you happy, they just try to keep you satisfied Mr. Big Stuff, tell me tell me Who do you think you are Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna get my love I'd rather give my love to a poor guy that has a love that's true (oh yeah) Than to be fooled around and get hurt by you Cause when I give my love, I want love in return (oh yeah) Now I know this is a lesson Mr. Big Stuff you haven't learned Mr. Big Stuff, tell me Who do you think you are Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna get my love Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna break my heart Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna make me cry Mr. Big Stuff, tell me Just who do you think you are Mr. Big Stuff You're never gonna get my love Mr. Big Stuff 


End file.
